


Skyline

by quartzguts



Series: bad things happen (mostly to noct) [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Depression, Gen, Insomnia, Suicidal Thoughts, the city and the illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: It's four in the morning and Noct can't sleep.
Series: bad things happen (mostly to noct) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550269
Kudos: 27
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Skyline

**Author's Note:**

> found this in my wip folder, practically done. written for bad things happen bingo prompt: insomnia

It’s 4:00 in the morning and Noct feels like drowning himself in the sink.

He’s been sitting in the bathroom for what feels like ages, hunched over on top of the closed toilet seat and aimlessly flipping through the news feed on his phone. He isn’t reading anything per say, just mindlessly looking at picture after picture, each accompanied with a caption that seem less like actual words and more like symbols of an ancient, forgotten language. Noct blinks wearily. His eyes are starting to burn, from the screen and the bright lights above him, and he forces himself to stand.

Leaving the room is a chore. The bathroom is safe, somehow, safer than the rest of his apartment. When he’s in there he can lock the door, make a barrier between him and everyone else. It’s bright, too, with florescent lights so strong they banish all shadows from their presence. The rest of the apartment is dark at night, even with the lights on. Noct doesn’t bother flipping the switch; sometimes tabloid reporters have nothing better to do than stare at the window in his living room with binoculars and note anything unusual. Noct doesn’t want to deal with waking up to another article about the Prince’s nocturnal sleeping habits, or more speculation on whether or not he had a  _ lady friend _ keeping him company.

Instead he manages to force his tired legs to carry him all the way into the living room, where he collapses on the couch. He had wanted to turn on the TV, just to have noise and light in the room, but in the moment he finds he can’t manage it. There’s an unnatural heaviness in his limbs that weighs him down, keeping him trapped against the soft couch cushions. He turns his face against them and lets his cheek get squished by the fabric. He knows he’ll wake up tomorrow with red lines on his skin from where the seems are pressing into him. He doesn’t care.

If he looks just up and over, he can see the city skyline from beyond the window. The Wall glimmers, looking obscenely beautiful and serene for something that is killing his father. Something that has taken, is taking, will take everything away from him. Something he can’t hate, not when it’s the only thing standing between his home and ruin, but can’t love either.

The clock ticks. It’s 4:15 in the morning. Noct breathes in through his nose and stares at the shadows of his room. They twist and squirm.

He wishes he could melt into them.


End file.
